


Mermaid's Kiss

by thechosentwo



Category: Tintin - All Media Types
Genre: Abstract, Drabble, Haddotin, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:20:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26331013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thechosentwo/pseuds/thechosentwo
Summary: just a short drabble I wanted to write, thinking about Haddock's relationship with the sea and the ways in which he feels about Tintin
Relationships: Archibald Haddock/Tintin
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32





	Mermaid's Kiss

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LibraStar96](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LibraStar96/gifts).



“Whether it was the quality of the light or the clarity of my feelings for you, I don’t know, but there was softness and no blurring. ‘This is not a lie,’ I said to myself. ‘It may not hold, but it is true.’”  
Jeanette Winterson, Lighthousekeeping 

Haddock always felt at home on the sea. He admired her, loved her even. There was a vast sort of loneliness that you could feel on the waves that the land hid from you. You could have that awareness that no matter how close you came there would always be something separating the two of you. If you tried too hard to cross that line you’d end up coughed out on some strange shore, lungs full of salt, gone as alone as you came. He felt something like that looking at Tintin. 

The lad was friendly to those he respected and dangerous to those who disrespected him. He seemed to wear his heart on his sleeve and yet Haddock felt no closer to understanding him than he did the first day they met. Haddock was nothing more than a fisherman in the shallows, praying for good fortune, praying for Tintin to accept his affection in some small way. 

It was harder living together than he had expected. The distance between them was smaller than ever and now Haddock could feel every wave and buffeting wind. To reach out and touch would be madness. He’d be swallowed up in those storms. He’d be torn apart by hidden things with teeth. If he got any closer he’d be over with for sure, giving his life and breath to a lad as cold and unpredictable as his mistress. No matter how warm Tintin seemed, Haddock had to remember that. 

Expecting anything, wanting anything at all was foolish. The sea took and gave on its own whims. There was no way to control her or understand why the mood changed. You could only accept her as she was in that moment, and do your best to survive through the night. But every sailor wished for a clear sky in the morning, no matter what they knew when they went to bed. Haddock couldn’t help but wish the look Tintin gave him meant more than it did. He couldn’t stop himself from wanting to be held peacefully by something that didn’t understand the meaning. 

In loving the sea Haddock had always been the one reaching out, like so many sailors, extending his fingertips to feel the salt spray on the breeze. The ocean herself felt nothing, returned nothing. But when Haddock’s fingertips brushed against the edges of Tintin, something reached back. Something more solid and warm than water was in his hands. Something as consuming and wild, but less demanding of metamorphosis. In a moment, Haddock believed all the stories he’d ever heard about mermaids’ kisses and the sailors they had saved; in this moment, he was breathing water as surely as air.


End file.
